


Fractal Point

by shadows_of_the_force



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dark Obitine, F/M, Obitine, Rating May Change, Sith Obi-Wan, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadows_of_the_force/pseuds/shadows_of_the_force
Summary: Following the death of Anakin Skywalker, a grieving Obi-Wan had turned.  He had turned for guidance, for purpose.  He had turned, in the only way he’d ever known how; he had turned to his lineage.  He had turned to Count Dooku… and eventually, to the Dark Side.He’d avoided Satine after that, ashamed of what he was, even as he took care to make sure she was safe.  But when his new Master begins to fear that old feelings are conflicting with new purpose, everything suddenly changes, and he is forced to act lest she be destroyed.  To save her, though, he must face her once again…





	1. Chapter 1

**O** bi-Wan Kenobi stared out the viewport window of his personal shuttle, deep in meditation. The Unifying Force swirled and ebbed in his vision, stretching out into the stars beyond, weaving past and future alike into its universal fabric. Out and below, the planet of Mandalore glistened like fresh-fallen snow, a fractal point of memory long divided by conflict.

     Once, he knew, he had looked upon this very place with a different set of eyes; younger eyes, bluer eyes, happier eyes unburdened with the harsh realities of war. He had been so naïve, then. So willingly blind... How strange it was, he thought, that he could still see their light despite the darkness that had fallen over him... that they had remained so much the same even after everything had changed! It was true, he realized, that some stars must have been born since then; that others, like himself, had been overcome by darkness. Such was the nature of finite life, he knew, even for the brightest of stars. But although they shifted, and faded, and formed anew, they always formed the same pattern - that of the dark and the light, locked in their eternal dance. And always, time is there to connect them, bringing history back to the place where it began... The endless cycle of renewal and destruction, of beginnings and endings and life and death. And so, he supposes, it makes sense that he has found himself back here again after so long, even if it is just to destroy his old self one last, final time.

     Obi-Wan's thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the holoprojector, its blue light drawing his gaze from the planet below. Usually, a call from his Master would be nothing to be concerned about - his relations with Tyranus had always been civil enough, and his performance left little to be desired. But today, he felt a certain apprehension as he strode to the projector pad, an uneasiness that he could not shake from his mind despite his considerable discipline. Still, he had been the Count's apprentice long enough to know that he must not reveal his doubts. Dooku was perceptive when it came to such matters, and being a master of manipulation himself, he was difficult to deceive.

     As Obi-Wan activated the projector, he was careful to keep his head bowed, a few wayward strands of auburn falling into his gaze. The traditional gesture was one of respect, but today it gave him a few more precious moments to school his face into the proper obedience and calm before addressing Tyranus more directly.

     "Ah, Ben." His old codename slid off his master's tongue with a flourish, a simple memory embellished with more meaning than it should have held. _Surely he couldn't know... or did he?_ _Was this intentional, meant to rattle him?_ "I trust you have something to report." One elegant white eyebrow raised expectantly beneath the dark folds of Tyranus' robe, serving both inquisition and judgement. _But what that judgement might be..._

     "I do, Master. The faction here that calls itself Deathwatch has been most cooperative, but they are a young movement, and hardly so bold as they claim..." Kenobi stroked his beard thoughtfully, wondering how he should proceed. _I don't want him to think continued involvement here is worth it. But how to convince him..._ "I do not think that there is enough resistance here to turn events to our liking. Perhaps a planet with a weaker neutral stance would..."

     "No... I sense that Mandalore is the key. A planet with such a violent past is sure to harbor dormant resentment, which will work to our favor. Remember, Kenobi, that I wish to be directly involved as little as possible... Appearances are most important if we are to rally more neutral systems to our cause." His master's dark eyes narrowed dangerously, and Obi-Wan knew that he was bordering ever closer to the invisible line that had thus far remained unbroken. But still, he had to try, because _her_ life depended on it.

"No government here lasts long, Master... I fear that even if we are successful, eventually we may have to intervene to keep it in our grasp. Surely..."

     "Mandalore may take some effort to obtain. However, if the Duchess Satine falls, it will go a long way in aiding our cause. Without her leadership, the Council of Neutral Systems will quickly crumble, and more and more worlds will become ripe for our taking." Dooku's hologram flickered, then steadied again, the stars shining brightly through his transparent image. _And her name, spoken so easily, so damningly from his master's lips, traveling through space and time to haunt him once more..._ A shiver ran down Kenobi's spine, threatening to overtake his steely composure, but he soon clamped down on the impulse, and the memories were as quickly gone as they had occurred.

     "But Master..." Obi-Wan protested, only to be cut short once more by Dooku's holoimage.

     "Do not forget, my apprentice, that Sidious' plot depends upon the current balance." The old man's voice was a clear reprimand, but he was not angry - _at least not yet,_ Obi-Wan mused. In fact, he sounded _tired_ , Kenobi realized, and not just of their conversation; today was one of those rare instances where Obi-Wan could actually _see_ the Count's age, where the façade between them crumbled and the almost grandfatherly bond that existed between them became evident. Days like these, one saw an old man, and the youngest of his legacy, bonded by the whisper of a ghost, shared memory thick with sorrow. _Qui-Gon._ They never spoke of him; and yet he was there, always, the binding link between them...

     "If we are able to shift the war in our favor, Sidious will become more vulnerable - and that is when we will strike. Remember why you joined me, Obi-Wan..." Dooku's voice was softer now, and Obi-Wan knew that he was thinking it, too. _Qui-Gon._ "...together, we can end this terrible war and seek justice for those lives he has destroyed."

     "Yes, Master," Kenobi answered, almost apologetically, "I will be more mindful." _But surely, there must be another way. I cannot destroy her..._

     "See to it that they are unaware of our influence in this matter. I want no complications when it comes time to recruit more systems to our cause," Dooku reminded him, the stony façade returning in full force, "And keep in contact. I expect full updates on your progress." As the hologram flickered out at last, Kenobi found himself releasing a breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding - this whole ordeal had him deeply unsettled, and he still wasn't entirely sure why. Some of it, of course, had to do with _her_ , but there was something else, too, something elusive... He would have to meditate on it later. For now, he would do his duty.


	2. Chapter 2

     **D** uchess Satine swirled her drink absentmindedly, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The datapad glowed softly from where it still rested, activated, on the table, casting ghosts before her tired gaze. _I really should retire,_ she thought, _as I promised my guard I would hours ago._

     Kaiiani had meant well, of course, but that didn't make his constant _worrying_ any less bothersome. His loyalty was something that she appreciated, however, especially in these uncertain times... _Although,_ she mused, _his devoted service might have been driven less by his professionalism or politics than by more personal factors._ It had not escaped the Duchess' notice that her young head of security often would stare just a little too long, or stay in her service just a little too late...

     Normally, Satine wouldn't have let it bother her; it was just a childish crush, after all, and such fantasies had long since become distant in her memory. On this night, however, the pain of lost love came to her fresh and anew, awash with blood and tears and the whisper of a name: _Obi-Wan._

     She had read it in the tabloids just the week before, seen the holo-reports: _Missing. He was missing. Or dead, perhaps - like that Skywalker kid, his apprentice. Maybe,_ Satine thought, _it would be better that way, so she'd quit expecting him to come back. So he'd stop breaking her heart every time he left, or worrying her every time he disappeared. Maybe,_ she thought, _it was time to bury that part of her, bury it with him in the past where it belonged._ The Duchess sighed, and tried again to focus on her work, but in the flickering light of the 'pad her tired eyes could discern only the shadows of his face, the sarcastic quirk of his lips, the stormy skies of his eyes... Satine paused for a moment, fingers hovering over the deactivation switch, then, in a moment of sudden decision, flipped the offending device off. But his memory remained, seemingly there to taunt her. _Oh, Obi. Why do you insist on hurting me this way?_

     She blinked, hard, suddenly realizing that the haze in her vision was no longer entirely due to her exhaustion. The sorrow was now threatening to overflow, despite her valiant efforts - her cheeks seared with the strain of holding back unsightly emotion, and there was an ominous trembling in her lip, which quaked like thunder-heavy air before a storm. It wasn't long before she lost the battle and the downpour began, salty rivers streaming their way down the Duchess' pale face and soaking the silken sleeve of her nightgown. She reached hastily, desperately for a something, anything to to scrub the incriminating evidence of her humanity, her weakness, from her face... only to freeze, startled, as her datapad was knocked loose by her movement and clattered to the floor below. Satine sat, stunned, her heart throbbing, suddenly aware of how afraid she was. She had spent all her life here, selflessly serving her people... And for what? She was alone, utterly alone, and the only man she'd ever loved was dead, gone, _gone_... Regret came to plague her now, stinging hot like the tears streaming down her raw cheeks, pulsing with every beat of her heart and choking her with her sobs. She was crying unashamedly now, knowing there was no one there to hear, no one there to save her, that she was alone...

     _Then the door to her office was sailing open, the blinding light of the hallway casting long shadows upon the floor, and a worried voice was calling her name, and the room was spinning and..._ A pair of warm hands gripped her shoulders gently, steadying her. _Kaiiani._

     "M'lady, I heard a terrible racket... are you alright?"

     "...'m fine," Satine managed, suddenly feeling very awake as she began wriggling her way out of his grasp, "I just need some sleep." _Please, Kaiiani, let it go..._

     "M'lady, you're exhausted. Let me..."

     "I'm quite fine!" she insisted suddenly, blue eyes blazing fiercely in spite of the tears. She stepped back, quickly regaining her composure in her desperation to escape his suddenly unbearable presence. "Now, if you will excuse me, it is very late, and both of us should have retired long ago." Though her head was spinning, the Duchess managed to gather herself regally as ever as she headed stubbornly for her private quarters, determined to escape his company.

     To her relief, he did not follow her, only bid her good night with a look of confusion and perhaps hurt upon his admittedly handsome features. A sudden flash of guilt had hit her then - she knew he only meant to help, and she had snapped at him - but she was far too tired to make amends now. _I'll sort this whole mess in the morning._ For now, she would try to get some much-needed sleep.


End file.
